Don't Starve Origins: If All The World's a Stage
by M.E.Watkins
Summary: Wigfrid is a girl with a wild imagination, dangerously so. She's always being looked at strangely, ending up in places she can't remember going to and no one seems to understand her. All she wants is to be understood so when other options arrive for her, she's quick to take them...even if they turn out to be more then she can understand...


The harsh wind rushed through her golden hair as she watched the world blow past her carriage window. Thatched cottages slumped and slouched across the gravel road and the sweet smell of manure flew up to meet her delicate nostrils. She smiled sweetly and shut her emerald eyes as she heard the voices of her subjects calling out to her. Their shouts mixed with the squeal of pigs and the sloshing of mud beneath the golden carriage wheels, but to her they sounded as clear as a lute on a still night, ringing with wonder and amazement at seeing their monarch pass through their village. There was a sudden stop. She listened as children began pulling at their Mothers and men threw down their shovels. Even the goats and pigs seemed to flock to their queen. And yet, she merely continued to smile and await the praise that her subjects would soon shower upon her.  
"Wigfrid! Wigfrid, where are you!"  
The girl blinked. She could once again feel the splinter covered seat beneath her and hear the rustling city outside. A sigh fell from her mouth. It was all such a letdown compared to being royalty. Boring, stupid and always the same. Well maybe not always. Right now, something felt a bit off….  
Oh! That was it! She was the only one on the wagon!  
"Wigfrid! If you don't get in line right now you'll be getting the paddle!"  
Wigfrid jumped to her feet, slung her school bag over her shoulder, and darted off the wagon. The other students were lined up in front of the theater, snickering as they watched her creep toward them. Maybe her Teacher would think she'd just overlook-  
"OW!"  
Wigfrid squealed as the Teacher took hold of ear.  
"There you are you little imp! Think you could sneak back without my noticing? Now where in hell did you wander off to?"  
"How dare you speak to me like that you old witch!?" Wigfrid shouted as she pulled away "I am the Queen of El' Grindie, the greatest kingdom of all England, and I'll have you sent to the gallows!"  
"Oh shut up!" The Teacher shoved her forward. Wigfrid let out a squeak as she landed face first in the mud, much to the amusement of her peers.  
"That goes for you kids too!"  
Wigfrid pushed herself up and wiped the sludge from her rosy face. She sniffled in attempt to push back her tears. After all, a queen shouldn't cry. Even when petty peasants laughed at her. Queens didn't cry.  
She quietly trudged back to the end of the line.  
"Guess Wiggy wasn't quite done in Fairyland." Came a nearby whisper.  
"Yeah, where's she going next? Atlantis?"  
"Honestly, they should just get her locked up already. It's not like school's gunna help _her_."  
"Queens don't cry. Queen's don't cry. Queen's don't cry." Wigfrid repeated in her mind, but she wasn't a queen anymore was she? She was just….Wiggy.  
"Now then, everyone inside. We were given a school-day discount and I won't have it wasted out here."  
A wave of cool air passed over Wigfrid's face as the Teacher marched everyone inside. She gazed up at the elegant décor of the theater; crystal chandeliers, long red carpets, massive show posters hanging between silver wall ornaments. Her eyes widened at the sight. It looked like they were in a palace. A grand palace for the lord of the Spanish Main and she was merely a single soldier marching to meet her lord in order to give her respects before marching off to battle against-  
"Eeep!" Wigfrid jumped as something hit the back of her head. Her hand flew to her scarlet hair which now contained a massive wad of gum. From close behind, she heard voices snickering.  
"Heh heh. How was your trip Wiggy? Kill any dragons? See any mermaid?"  
Wigfrid growled as she wrestled the gum from her head and shook it off into a nearby trash bin. Why did everyone have such a massive urge to make her life a misery? It was like she was a phantom, a lost wandering soul who'd been murdered in her prime by a man she once…  
The thought faded as the students were shooed into the auditorium. The stage was massive, a great black frame with heavy red curtains and long golden ropes dripping from above. A faint smell of perfume mixed with stage smoke danced in the air. Wigfrid looked about at the other groups that had taken their all of them containing children her age whispering to each other with hushed excitement. In fact, the whole theater had the chill of anticipation floating over it. Expectation, rumor, wonder and amazement at the mere fact of being here.  
Wigfrid frowned. Why were they here again? It was clearly for a show, but for the love of the goddesses she couldn't recall. Instead of puzzling, she plopped herself down with the other students in the first open chair she could see which happened to be at the far end of the row, a very good distance away from anyone else. Whatever they had come to see couldn't be very interesting. Maybe it was a play. Or worse, an educational demonstration! The mere thought caused Wigfrid to groan.  
"SSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!" Replied the rest of the audience.  
Wigfrid stuck out her tongue and crossed her arms. Blech! This was going to be terrible! She looked around for anything to take her mind off the impending dullness. The lights had dimmed making it hard to see anything aside from the stage and black silhouettes of….Hm? What was that?  
She leaned out of her seat and peered towards a white blotch on the far right side of the room. It looked like a sign. Yes, a white sign with the words "Employees Only: Do Not Enter" written on it with swirling black letters. It hung from a door-no, not a door….A cave! Yes! And it wasn't white. It was wooden! An old wooden sign hung by some lost traveler who'd journeyed this far into the amazon only to run in fear upon reaching this cave. He'd left the sign as a last despite attempt to spare others from the horrors he'd encountered. Well the poor person had done its best; now only the brave explorer could traverse this forgotten abyss for its treasure. But first, she must escape. She checked for the wild tigers that hid within the jungle trees, but their attention was fixed on the nearby forest fire ….which of course she'd created as a diversion. As the light crackled against the night sky, she quietly fell to her knees and crawled through the bushes. For miles it felt like she'd crawled, hundreds of miles without making so much as a peep, but at last she reached the cavern. With a tug she removed the plank of wood covering the entrance and crept into the mouth of the cave.  
Inside was a long vast tunnel, nearly as dim as outside. Curse the quicksand for stealing her torch! Nevertheless, she began her trek into the chasm. Her heart pounded within her, not for fear of the unknown, but for the distant roaring in the distance. It seemed to come in intervals; loud cries one moment, tense silence the next. She'd have to be quick. She began walking at a brisk pace. On the walls of the cave were paintings of berry ink, perhaps left by some savages, and scraps of cloth left by less fortunate travelers. It was a sight enough to make even a seasoned explorer such as her gulp with uncertainty. Perhaps she should turn back…No! Of course not! She was a treasure hunter; treasure hunters never gave up until the treasure was found! She threw back her shoulders and continued on. Deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper-what was that? It sounded like footsteps, but who would be foolish enough to enter aside from herself? Was it the tigers? The savages? A lost spirit seeking vengeance for disturbing its tomb?  
"That was one heck of a show, wasn't it?"  
"Yeah, I'm never going to figure out how he does that."  
The sound of men talking snapped Wigfrid back into reality. She blinked a few times, then looked at her surroundings with a growing sense of panic. She was in a long, dim hallway with show posters and boxes of props covering every inch of it.  
How the heck had she gotten here?  
"Hey, you think there's any way we could find out? I mean, maybe if we-"  
"Are you kidding? That guy keeps a lock on everything that isn't nailed down and doesn't let anyone touch the stage while he's on it 'sept that girl! You'd have a better chance getting a pig to fly then-Hey! What are you doing back here!?"  
Wigfrid spun around. Two men in uniform were rushing towards her.  
"Ahhhhh!" She let out a squeal as she dashed off down the corridor. However she'd gotten here, she had to get back to class before she was hung from the gallows herself! Or worse, the Teacher would paddle her! And everyone would laugh again!  
"Hey! Kid! Stop!"  
She tuned out the voices of the security guards as best she could and kept running as fast as her little legs would carry her, dodging piles of costumes and faux swords that littered the walkway. A corner appeared and she skidded left. To her dismay, the passage led to a dead end. She was trapped! Doomed to hanging! Starvation! Paddling! It would all be too much for her tiny self to bear. Would the almighties not take her now and spare the sufferings of what was to come?  
But wait! Out of the corner of her eye, Wigfrid spotted a door with only the tiniest crack alerting to its nature. She was saved!  
Without a second thought, she dove for the door and slammed it shut behind her. Outside she heard the pounding of the men's footsteps as they reached the end of the hallway. Wigfrid held the doorknob and bit her lip anxiously.  
"Where the heck did she go!?"  
"I don't know! You were in front of me!"  
"Well, were there any other pathways?"  
"I couldn't tell! You were in front of me!"  
"Well she'd couldn't just disappear!"  
"I wouldn't know! You were front of me!"  
"Okay! No need to get cross! We'll go back and search for her."  
"Rugrat musta snuck in here from one of the school groups. See! Didn't I say it was a bad idea…"  
The last statement was cut off as the voices faded into the distance. Wigfrid let out a sigh of relief.  
"Thank the goddesses!" She breathed. "They have spared me once again! Bless them all!"  
With the danger passed, Wigfrid finally took in her surroundings. It was a contrast to the stuffy hallway; a large forest-colored room that opened up like a storybook and hadn't a speck of dust. She slowly stepped further in, resting her hand upon a black chair that stood beside a matching table. Its pillow was so plush looking that no one would dare fault her for sitting down. Or for letting out a giggle as she bounced up and down in it.  
"Wish my room was like this." She murmured. Hers was just plain pink with a lacy princess bed….or was it white with a porthole built right above her hammock? Well, whatever it was, this was much better.  
Her gaze wandered across the elegant furniture and the dead flower bouquets that rested on them, marveling at every little thing. Perhaps she would have stared for longer.  
But footsteps interrupted her once again.  
She jumped from her seat and hurried for the first hiding place that she could find; a small end table with a long white cloth covering it. No sooner than she had tucked her legs beneath it, the door flew open and shut with a bang. Then came a thud, something being dropped onto the table she guessed, and a sigh.  
"Another day, another show."  
It was indeed a man's voice, but a very different one. Comparing it to the guards in any right almost felt like an insult. It was too deep, too…commanding, even in depression.  
She just had to see who was speaking.  
Wigfrid scooted herself forward and peaked through the fine linen just in time to see the man pour himself a drink from the glass bottle on the table. He was quite dapper, dressed entirely in black with red rose pinned on, and he looked exhausted. She could tell from the bags beneath his pale eyes that he hadn't slept in days, yet the way his face was worn now that he was in assumed privacy made it clear that it was a fact he kept well hidden. Wigfrid's face fell in pity.  
"Another day, another show." He repeated as he sat, taking a long sip from his glass. "Another day, another show. Another day…another show….."  
Suddenly, the man threw his glass to the ground. Wigfrid jumped as it shattered inches from her feet, the wine spilling onto the very edge of her hiding place. It smelled terrible, like permanent fruity markers, and it painfully hard not to gag.  
"What does it matter anyway!?" The man growled. "It's not like these shows make a difference to anyone! There…there has to be something better than this. A man of my talents! Why is it I keep wasting it on these petty magic shows?! I shouldn't, should I? I….I…"  
His voice drifted off until he was almost whimpering.  
"I…I can't go on like this! I can't do this! I can't deal with **them** anymore. I….can't…."  
He slumped back in his chair, all of the energy flowing out of him. Without even looking up, the man's quivering hand reached for something. Wigfrid was forced to lean closer to see. It was a book. A dark black book with a scarlet M on the cover. It was also the most beautiful book she'd ever seen; nothing like sun stained drugstore novels her mother kept at home. Actually, from the way it blended with the man's attire, Wigfrid thought it looked more like an accessory then something to read. Perhaps the man agreed. He began absentmindedly flipping through the yellowed pages, his eyes slightly hazed over as he turned though every passage without taking in a single one. A empty smile appeared on his face.  
"I shouldn't worry so much." He murmured. "It's all just part of the act after all. That's all. It's just an illusion. **They** 'll go away soon. Just a little longer now. A little longer…"  
A strange dread was rising inside of Wigfrid as he watched the man finger through his book. For no logical reason, she wanted to leave now.  
Right now.  
She turned, facing where she remembered the door to be. There hadn't been any time earlier so there was no way the door was locked. At least, she hoped so. All she needed was the right moment to sneak out. Once more, she glanced back at the man to insure he wasn't looking.  
She stifled a gasp.  
The man hadn't so much as moved but something else had. Long dark hands began stretching out from the wall behind him. She would have mistaken them for shadows had there been anything to cast them.  
The hands slowly began reaching across the room, drowning the cheerful light cast from the small chandelier in black shadows. Wigfrid's heart thudded inside her, but her legs refused the plea to run. They abandoned her to watch the phantom shapes grasp at the ceiling and crawl across the floor….until one of them found its way directly beneath the table in which she hid. It held itself in a snake-like posture just in front of her. Wigfrid could barely breath; her lungs felt like a bubble had been forced inside them and no sound would come out. The shadow paused for a moment, as if it was looking at her. Then it slowly reached out to grasp at her hair.  
That was enough to cause Wigfrid to pop.  
"Stay back!" She screamed at the top of her lungs and shoved herself away.  
Her movement pulled on the tablecloth, which pulled down the table in turn. Its vase of flowers crashed on the floor.  
"What in devil!" The man jumped at the clamor, breaking him out of whatever trance he'd been in. The shadows also seemed taken aback as they disappeared.  
Wigfrid noticed neither of these things. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she dug herself out from the tangled cloth and bolted from the room. However fast she'd been running to get away from the guards was nothing compared to the speed she was at now. Stumbling in the dim light with no idea how to get out, she forced her way forward knowing only that she wouldn't go back. Blindly she rushed through the hallway, tripping over props at every turn, and never stopped screaming for a second.  
Running into something was inevitable.  
"Oof!"  
"Agh!"  
Wigfrid fell forward, landing on top of something smooth and silky….and moving.  
She opened her eyes and realized that she was staring into someone else's.  
"Oh gee, I'm so sorry Miss!" She stammered as she awkwardly got to her feet. The lady did the same, casting her a smile as she did so.  
"Aw, don't worry about it Sweet pea." She laughed with a voice that felt like fizzing soda pop for the ears. "I've been in worse scrapes. But what's a kid like you doing back here? School shows finished a few minutes ago."  
Wigfrid blushed. If only she knew what to say, but something about the lady made her nervous. She had a bright smile and a bright white dress that made her look like an angel while her hair was raven black with a rose tucked behind one ear that looked proper for a deceptive demon.  
A rose?  
Wigfrid looked up at the flower again and something clicked in the back of her mind.  
She fell to her knees, much to the lady's surprise, and clasped her hand together.  
"Your majesty!" I'm so sorry!" She pleaded "I know I should never have ventured back into your domain, perhaps it was merely the work of vengeful harpies that I find myself back here yet that is no excuse! Yet here I fall to my knees and I beg of your forgiveness for the deeds that I have done, for I have seen forbidden things! I have seen your king's secrets that are too great for a mere mortal such as myself to understand!"  
"Whoa, whoa! Slow down!" The Lady tried to interrupt. "What are you talking about? You haven't done anything wrong."  
But Wigrid simply kept prattling on, shaking in fear at being caught by the Queen herself.  
"I should have willingly accepted myself to whatever torment your shadow monsters would have given me! Perhaps I was wrong to disregard yout servants as evil! Perhaps I should have submitted myself to their hand as the great magician king had! Then perhaps they would have dared bestowed the discipline and power your lord has accepted! But I was a fool to ignore their whispers and now I must face my punishment for my insolence, worse torment then the ninth ring of hell! But please my Queen, have mercy upon me! I beg of you, have mercy!"  
Wigfrid was sobbing now. The terror and confusion of the past couple minutes finally flooded itself through her eyes. So fierce the tears fell that she turned her head to the floor in shame. Now she really was going to get the paddle. Stupid tears!  
She felt a gentle hand take hers. The Lady had crouched down so that she once again stood at eye level. She didn't look confused or angry or even pitiful. Her face now carried a grim expression as she stared intently at the little girl.  
"What…." She paused, considering for a moment whether to continue. "What did the shadows say?"  
Wigfrid blinked at first, not understanding what this lady was talking about, then it hit her. She hadn't even paid attention to it when she was there, so doused in terror was she, but those shadows had been whispering. Very faintly, but something.  
"I…I don't know." She sniffled. "I couldn't understand them, it just sounded like whispering. They…they weren't talking to me anyway, I don't think."  
The lady's face softened and she reached out, tenderly wiping the remaining tears from Wigfrid's face.  
"There there sweet pea, it's all right. I'm not upset and you're not in trouble." She smiled brightly. "In fact, I think you're a downright brave little lady to have snuck back here. Though I think it's high time you got back with your school, wouldn't you say."  
Wigfrid nodded.  
"Well then, come on. It's a labyrinth back here" She stood straight once again, keeping hold of Wigfrid hand as they walked through the hallway.  
"T-thank you, your Majesty."  
The lady let out a warm laugh.  
"I'm a magician's assistant, not a queen. You'd have to be pretty nutty to leave a kingdom in my hands." She smirked. "My friend's call me Charlie and since you're one of them, you should too."  
"I'm Wigfrid!"  
"Well that's a good name. A pleasure to meet you! Now why don't you tell me what you were doing back here in the first place…."  
The walk was the greatest one Wigfrid had ever taken. At first she merely answered Charlie's questions, how old she was and what grade she was in and other boring things, but within the walk from the backstage to the theater's entrance, she became entranced by the lady. Soon she was telling about her past adventures involving harpies, Quetzalcoatl, Spanish explorers, Vikings, murders and all of hell's circles. Charlie didn't interrupt or even look at her funny through every story she told, a fact that made Wigfrid swell with joy. It was far too soon when she once again felt the scalding spring sun on her back and heard the squawks of her Teacher rushing up to her.  
"Where have you been? And don't you dare sass me this time!"  
Wigfrid was torn from Charlie's side. The combination of heat and the near loss of a student had so enraged her Teacher that Wigfrid believed she'd be beaten right there on the street. This likely would have ture had Charlie not stepped in.  
" 'fraid that'd be my fault." She explained. "The little dolly had hurried off to the bathroom during the show and when I found her there crying since she'd missed the whole thing, I insisted on giving her a tour."  
"Well, yes. All right." The Teacher reluctantly agreed. She couldn't well shame the lady who'd help set up this trip. Instead she turned back to Wigfrid with a scowl. "I hope you thanked her for the tou-"  
"Oh thank you very much!" Wigfrid gave Charlie a small one-handed curtsy. "You truly must be an angel for all the good you've done unto me."  
The Teacher shook her.  
"I'm afraid she's got some problems in the head." She added to Charlie in what a very good impression of pity. "An overactive imagination would be an understatement. I hope she wasn't too much trouble for you."  
Charlie didn't seem fazed by the Teacher's explanation. In fact, much to Wigfrid additional delight, she laughed.  
"I think she's got a good head on her shoulders. The imagination's just an added bonus." She turned to Wigfrid with a smile. "Ever considered show business? All it is is pretending you're something you're not and that seems like your specialty."  
Wigfrid grinned even brighter.  
"Thank you again for bringing Wiggy back, but we've better be going." The Teacher quickly interrupted. Without waiting for more, she began walking Wigfrid back to the rest of the class.  
"Bye!" Wigfrid called back with an eager wave.  
"Hope to see you again soon!" Charlie returned with a wave of her own before heading back into the theater.  
Wigfrid was still grinning as her Teacher began prattling on about paddlings and punishments. She didn't hear a word of it.  
Show business.  
A world where all you did was pretend to be something you weren't.  
Now that was a world for her!  
***************************************( _15 years later_ )*******************************************  
"What do you mean I didn't get the part?" Wigfrid glared down at the little man before her. "I've been practicing for this role for months! Months!"  
The man merely sighed for what must have been the thousandth time and continued to sort through the papers sitting at his desk. He cared so little for this argument, it was driving her crazy!  
"I'm sorry Ms. Wigfrid, but we had to give the role to Mrs. Winifred." He explained once more. "She was simply more qualified to be the Valkyrie-"  
"Are telling me you didn't hear her stutter?" Wigfrid objected. "She was about as much as a Valykrie as jumping bean!"  
"A bit of nerves, but my opinion still stands"  
"Nerves! How can you-" She paused and took a deep breath. Shouting wasn't going to get her anywhere.  
"Please, Mr. Dipthong. I only ask that you reconsider." She tried in a calmer tone. "I've graduated acting school, I've learned all these lines by heart, I've read "The Glory of Valhalla" more times than I can count and I've researched all the lore. I need this chance. Please!"  
Mr. Dipthong finally stopped adjusting his papers and stood to look at her sadly.  
"I'm sorry." He began, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But you must understand, this isn't because you're bad. In fact you did marvelously! The way you spoke and moved on stage; it was like you really were a Valkyrie. It just wasn't the right fit right now. You're welcome to come back and see the show though."  
Wigfrid clenched her fists. Perhaps she should have been thankful for the complement. Perhaps she should have thanked the man for his time and left then and there, but she couldn't. She'd heard this same song and dance too many times. It was sickening.  
"It's my condition, isn't it." She hissed, wrinkling her nose in disgust.  
Mr. Dipthong frowned.  
"No I-"  
"Oh don't lie to me!" Wigfrid scowled. "You're a snake and the truth spills from your mouth like venom, no matter how you try to sweeten it. You won't let me take this part because I have delusions and have to see a physiatrist once a week and it makes you feel uncomfortable. That's why no one will have me. That's why you won't have me, right!?"  
The man opened his mouth to lie, to say anything that didn't sound like the truth, but he didn't even have the courage to do that. He merely sat back down and returned to his papers.  
"You may leave now."  
"How dare you!" She shouted. "You-you-you-you're nothing but a coward!"  
"Leave. Or I'll be forced to call the authorities."Wigfrid growled, but Mr. Dipthong didn't even glance up. There was nothing more she could do but grit her teeth and leave….though she did have the spite to spit at the desk before hurrying out the door.  
"Two-faced cowardly jackal." She mumbled to herself. "How am I going to find a part now?"  
Even as she spoke it, her chest sunk as if her heart had turned to lead. The truth was painfully clear; she wasn't. There wasn't a single talent agent or performance artist program in town that would take her. And it was all because of her condition.  
"It's injustice. That's what it is." She pushed open the doors harder than she meant to, causing them to slam against the walls and shove back at her.  
"Oof! Fine then!" She shouted. "Push me over! Kick me while I'm down! While I'm at it, why don't you just print 'Welcome!' on my face and wipe your feet on my back!"  
Her string of sarcasm continued until she realized that she hadn't left the building as she'd intended to. Once again her body had gone places when her mind wasn't there. For once though, she didn't mind where she'd ended up. She slowly walked down the aisle separating the seats, her eyes fixated on the dull stage and a small smile creeping across her face. She'd seen many a great show here in the tiny Roselynn Theater and while she'd always been thrown out before she could finish, she still remembered every one. Perhaps it wasn't as fantastic or as extravagant a theater as the one back in San Francisco , which she sadly recalled being torn down after some sort of accident, but it was still her favorite part of this town. Even if she'd never have the chance to perform on it.  
Wigfrid stepped up the small staircase onto the rickety stage.  
"Well, at least I can stand on it. I suppose that comes close…" She mused, staring out into the empty audience. Fifteen years of work and this was the closest she'd ever come.  
"Someone 'ought to make it into a tragedy. Though I'm sure no one would care much for-"  
Mid-thought, Wigfrid rubbed her eye. There was something reflecting the stage light right into her pupil. Annoyed at being interrupted, she glanced around for the offending object.  
And there it was.  
Just off stage, almost out of sight, slumped onto a chair, was a costume. A brown tunic, a matching belt and a pair of boots. Simple perhaps, yet these were merely accents for the true glory of the attire. Placed delicately upon the clothes sat a metal helmet, sparkling in the stage light, and adorned with the head and wings of a mighty unicorn. Beside it lay a spear whose crooked handle and spike-encircled head spoke of past glories in battle. It seemed so unlikely, but someone had really left the costume of the Valkyrie sitting right where anyone could pick up and try it on. Not that anyone in their right mind would ever do that…..  
Wigfrid looked towards the empty theater, then back at the costume.  
Well, everyone was insistent on the fact that she wasn't in her right mind. No harm in proving them right, right?  
It took her less than a second to change.  
And how she wished she had a mirror!  
The rough fabric almost felt like real hide and her plated hair fit snugly beneath the helmet. Wigfrid almost felt as though she truly had killed a thousand unworthy cowards in the battle of Asgard.  
"I, Brynhildr, hense forth cast thine sinners into the Helheim! You dogs shall rot beneath the earth for the rest of eternity for your mercy has betrayed thee and the Gods shall never forgive this trespass!"  
Her voice echoed across the stage, making it sound even louder and more intimidating. She grinned and began storming across the stage, pointing her spear at the terrified soldiers her mind created.  
"Silence you pitiful fools! Never again shall your fear be a pain to the ears of Freja! Your cries fall on the death and it is death who awaits thee! Now, you vermin, you swine, prepare for your end. Your heart shall be torn from your chest, your head mounted upon my wall and blood shall drip from my spear until the battlefield's thirst for blood is answered. All shall be coated in crimson as you refused to-AAAGHH!"  
Wigfrid was forced to break character as she slipped and fell onto the hardwood floor.  
"Ow! Ow! OW!" She rubbed her sore back, embarrassed beyond belief.  
"Uhh, just as well. I gotta get this costume off before anyone sees me."  
She quickly climbed to her feet.  
"Huh? What's this?"  
A small paper book was beneath her foot. So this was the source of her fall! She scowled and picked it up. It was plain white and completely blank.  
"Maybe it fell out of the costume." She considered, flipping through the pages. There was almost nothing except a few lines written in cursive on the very first page.  
 **Scene I  
Roselynn Theater  
(It's long past closing time, Wigfrid has unknowingly been locked in the Theater and is wearing the Valkyrie costume)  
Wigfrid: **Huh, what's this? Must have fallen out of the costume (Picks up script and reads it)  
 **Maxwell:** Hello there. Would you like to be the star of your own drama? A show where the only audience takes pleasure in your little fantasies and where you'd be praised for your skill and you gifts rather than being shunned for them?  
"YES!" Wigfrid blurted. Almost as quickly as she said it, she frowned in realization. She was having a 'fantasy' again, one where a little script had her name and her actions recorded in it and was offering to grant her greatest wish. She sighed and closed the book. Of course it wasn't real. She'd know if she'd been locked in. Even she wasn't that oblivious! Her brain was just playing a cruel joke on her. In fact, she should drop the book and deny its presence. That would give her more control over her mind and her perception of reality…..or something like that. Her psychiatrist had a tendency to drone on.  
Yet Wigfrid couldn't resist one more peak inside. To her surprise, more lines had appeared.  
 **Wigfrid:** Yes!  
 **Maxwell:** Good. Then here's what you need to do…  
The rest of the page was blank. Egged on by the hanging sentence, she flipped the page.  
 **Wigfrid:** Perhaps it makes no sense, but I shall do it! After all, I am a Valkyrie! A Valkyrie must have no fear! (Cuts palm with spear)  
Wigfrid stared at the page. It was stupid. It was her stupid head being stupid.  
But she couldn't put the script down. The idea of being praised….the thought of being the star….of being thought as something more than a psychopath. She grit her teeth. It was only a delusion, but her delusions were always better than what was real anyway. And this one specifically thought she really meant something.  
"Perhaps it makes no sense, but I shall do it!" She straightened her helmet and held the spear out to her palm. "After all, I am a Valkyrie! A Valkyrie must have no fear!"  
Without another though, she slit the blade against her skin. It took all her will power not to scream from the searing pain. She bit her lip and looked down at her hand, which had slowly begun to drip blood in a long thin, painful line. A drop fell to the floor. It was lucky that this was a hallucination, otherwise she'd be freaking out trying to find a bandage.  
"Well then…. what now?" She clenched her hand together to stop the flow and opened the script with her uninjured hand.  
 **Wigfrid:** (Screams like a little girl) **  
Wigfrid:** Well then, what now? (Opens script with uninjured hand) **  
Maxwell:** Heh heh. I still have trouble believing how casual people are about cutting themselves for blood rituals these days.  
 **Wigfrid** : (Draws following design on the floor with blood)  
Beneath the line was a small drawing. It was a funny shape, swirling and spiraling in all kinds of places like a dizzy vine. Well, she'd already gone this far and it was only a fantasy anyway.  
She quickly knelt onto the floor, palm outstretched, and began dripping the blood so that it made the exact shape. Every so often her wound will scab up, forcing her to slit it open again to even more painful results. Finally she finished. Once more she stood up, rather proud of her work. Maybe she could take up art as a side project…..unless her skill was also a part of the fantasy. For now though, she returned to the script.  
 **Maxwell:** Good! Now just one more thing left. **  
Wigfrid:** _Umbra damones. Ego dare mea consenses libere. Colligere mea anima quia tua voluptatem_

 **End of Scene I**  
"What the heck?" Wigfrid stared at the last line. "Is that…Canadian or something?"  
She rubbed her eyes and shut the script a few times to see whether her mind would make the writing more legible. Yet despite her efforts, her mind was fixated in making her read gibberish. Funny. Normally she'd be able to understand writing, even if it was nonsense.  
Well, it probably didn't matter anyway.  
With a flick of her hair, she held out her staff proudly and puffed up her chest. She cleared her throat with a light cough.  
"Umbra damones!" She shouted to the empty seats, hoping she was getting the pronunciation right. "Ego dare mea consenses libere! Colligere mea anima quia tua voluptatem!"  
Her voice bounced off the walls of the theater….but nothing happened.  
"Dang it. I musta read it wrong!" She grumbled, tuning towards the curtain and reading over the script again. "Why can't my mind have a pronunciation guide? Let's see…Umbra damon-AAAAGH!"  
Without warning cold hands grabbed her from behind, grasping at her throat and clamping onto her arms.  
"AAAAAGH! AGH! AGH! AGH! AGH!" She screamed. She pulled away, pushing herself forward, but more hands reached for her and dragged her backwards.  
"LET GO! LET GO! LET GOOOOOOO!"  
Before she could even see the black shadows, they'd dragged her onto her blood symbol. Where it would be at least, for now it had disappeared leaving a dark hole in its place.  
And now Wigfrid was falling into emptiness.  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"  
Her screams were sucked into the darkness.  
She could hear nothing but the sound dark laughter.

****************************************************************************************************  
Wigfrid eyes snapped open.  
She hadn't even realized she'd shut them.  
Scratchy grass was itching against her face and pebbles were piled beneath her back.  
"Huh?" She pulled herself into an upright position, much to the pain of her back. "Ow! What happened? Did I fall asl-Whoa!"  
All around her were stiff evergreens, holding their needles out like knifes. The sky was a cover of musty clouds upon a purple twilight and the air felt still.  
"Wow! This is some fantasy!" She beamed. "Um, I mean….In the name of Thor! What forbidden landscape have I been dragged into?"  
Her hand reached up to scratch an itch on her head.  
"Wait! Where hath my armor gone!?"  
She looked around. Her helmet and spear were right there beside a stump. She hurried to her feet and gathered the costume.  
"Thank the gods! A Valkyrie must not be seen without the gifts of her queen!"  
As she placed the helmet upon her head, her ears detected an unusual sound.  
"Awoooooooooo! Awoooooooo!"  
Wigfrid searched the area. There were dark shapes darting between the trees, leaping back and forth between the shelter of the pines. Three, no four, mangy creatures stalked her from the shadows.  
A grin fell upon her face as she tightened her grip on the spear.  
"The beasts are upon us." She murmured with delight. This fantasy was better than a play any day!  
"Awooooooo! Grrrrrargggh!"  
One of the hounds crept into sight; a disgusting spawn of Hel no doubt. Sadly for it, a Valykire had no fear!  
With a battle cry that cracked through the evening like a whip, she plunged into battle.  
"Valhalla awaits!"


End file.
